


Confession

by HotMolasses



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Hannibal Loves Will, Hannigram sex, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Only Mentions - Freeform, PWP, Stop - Freeform, Talking, because they never, hannibal's POV, which of course means talking during sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:40:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7654147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HotMolasses/pseuds/HotMolasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even in the midst of sex, Hannibal's curiosity overcomes him and he winds up pulling more secrets out of Will Graham than either of them intended.  All this does is make them want each other more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confession

              Hannibal looked down at the creature before him, bare chest heaving, cheeks flushed, chestnut curls splayed out upon the pillow.

              “Beautiful thing.” he said, a glow in his heart unlike any other emotion he’d ever felt.  He let the glow show through on his features; an action that was still entirely unfamiliar, and therefore, exhilarating.  He was rewarded by an upturn in the corner of the perfect pair of lips that sat upon that perfect face; scarred by him and by experiences with him.

              “You can touch, you know.” Will said, his eyes half-lidded in a tease, lifting a denim-covered knee, demonstrating that he was already very willing to part his legs.  As if his entire being wasn’t always, constantly a tease.

              “It is important to appreciate the entirety of your beauty, before I ravage it.” Hannibal said, unbelieving at his own words.  Had he told his younger self that one day he would actually behold perfection; and not only that but be able to lay hands on it, and lips, and tongue, he would not have believed it.

              Will rolled  his eyes.  He did not yet understand the depth of his brilliance.  But he would, when Hannibal was finished.

              He traced his eyes over Will’s golden skin, down his neck, over his beautifully chiseled shoulders, his gorgeously sculpted chest, his fluttering, delicious stomach.  His eyes traced over the scar there, lingering, savoring the line that marked his claim.  His gaze moved over the waist of his jeans and rested on the lump in them.  He licked his lips.

              “Fuck, Hannibal.” Will breathed, and his heart _leapt_ at the way he said his name.  Every time.  Every time Will said his name, his heart leapt.  He used to wonder when that feeling would wear off.  He stopped wondering after they fell from the cliff.

              Hannibal’s hands reached up to the clasp of his belt and he slowly began to unbuckle it.

              “ _Finally_.” Will said with playful annoyance.  Hannibal let his slacks fall to the floor in an unfolded heap.  It used to itch in the back of his mind until he folded them.  Will made him no longer care.

              His silk boxers followed, and he took his already erect length in hand and stroked himself slowly, eyes savoring the picture before him as his nerves sent messages of pleasure to his brain.

              Will groaned and raised his hips, followed by a lick of his lips.  It used to infuriate Hannibal how easily Will undid his self-control; a simple sound, a simple motion, and he was lost. 

              Now he lived for it.

              He growled and crawled his way up the bed, as far as Will’s waist and no further.  His hands yanked open his fly and tugged his pants roughly down, boxers and all, in one graceful motion, stripping his lover bare in seconds.  He felt the dark, possessive emotions that he normally kept so well hidden rise to the surface.

              He let them show.

              His hand flew out to clasp Will’s chin roughly in his palm.

              “You are perfect, gorgeous, and mine.” he said, his voice low and threatening.

              Will lowered his eyelids and licked his lips.

              “All yours.” he purred.  Hannibal hungrily lowered his mouth to suck those lips into his own and devoured them.  He sucked and licked and bit, vicious and feral, Will’s responsive groans driving him _wild_.  His hands clasped Will’s shoulders tightly, pressing him into the mattress, wandering over his skin, feeling him, touching him, owning him.

              His biceps, his forearms, his fingers, his palms.  Chest and sides and stomach and pelvis; hips, thighs, testicles, penis.  Will shuddered and tilted his head backward in a groan when he stroked it.  Heat bloomed through Hannibal’s body at the sound.  With no other person had he ever before been affected by their pleasure.  It was distracting.  Beautifully distracting.

              He slid his lips down to claim the neck that bared itself to him, his free hand moving up to clasp those gorgeous curls, pulling hard to keep Will’s throat exposed to him so he could suck dark, lasting welts onto it.  His right hand continued to stroke Will, his thumb frequently pausing to stroke over the head, spreading the pre-cum and teasing, teasing him until he whimpered and screamed and shuddered.

              “Please please please please.” Will said, his heart hammering against Hannibal’s bare chest, echoing his own racing pulse.

              Hannibal slithered his mouth up to Will’s ear.

              “Open for me.” he whispered, his blood slicking dark with possessive delight as Will obeyed.  Eagerly.

              His knees rose, encasing Hannibal between them.  He shifted himself until his erection was pressed against Will’s, opened his hand, and took them both together.  Will’s scream was delightful.   Oh, how he enjoyed screams; but none compared to this.  None.

              He reached for the bottle of oil and poured as he stroked, letting it coat them, slick them, drowning Will in it.  Will’s eyes rolled back in his head and he started to rock his hips, and Hannibal needed to know _exactly_ why.

              “Is it the sensation of being smooth and slick, Will?  The loss of friction between our flesh?  Is it the scent; arousing in the associations you have with it, now?  Tell me.”

              Will’s cheeks blushed deep red.  He closed his eyes and clasped his fingers into the blanket, still rising his hips to meet Hannibal’s strokes.  He didn’t respond.  Hannibal poured more oil, letting it drip down both ways over his thighs.  Will groaned and bucked harder. 

              Hannibal set the bottle down and pulled his erection back, sliding the tip of his cock over Will’s well-oiled testicles, pressing against them, until he lifted under them and found the heat he sought.  He teased Will with his cock, rubbing against his anus, making him twitch and whimper through his teeth.

              “I need to know, Will.”

              All he got were more whimpers. 

              It absolutely delighted him.

              He slid his cock along Will’s thigh, keeping his hardness pressed to his skin so he would be very aware of it, and slid the first finger into Will’s body.  Will groaned, and so did Hannibal, unable already to contain his pleasure at Will’s allowing…no, _desiring_ Hannibal to enter him.

              He slid slowly in and out, teasing, pushing against the inner walls, stroking in every direction except against his prostate.

              “Fucking _tease_.” Will spat through clenched teeth.

              “You aren’t answering my question.”

              Will’s eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he thought about whatever it was he wasn’t saying, and it drove lust deep into Hannibal.  He pushed in a second finger and rubbed them both against his prostate, making him scream.

              “Unbearably exquisite.” Hannibal whispered.  He stroked, and pressed, and stretched, the third finger slipping in easily as Will eagerly opened up for him.  “You completely undo my composure.”

              “ _You’re_ the one who’s undone?!” Will cried, his voice cracking.  Hannibal could do nothing at all to stop the smirk from appearing on his face from his delight.

              “Well.  I could be closer to the state you are in if you would share your thoughts, Will.”

              He reached for the bottle of oil again and let it pour, making an impossible mess of the bed, watching the viscious liquid spread over and roll down his skin.  Will heaved and panted, thrusting his hips down onto Hannibal’s fingers, his eyes squeezed tightly closed, his knuckles white.

              Hannibal poured until the bottle was empty.  He tossed it to the floor.

              Will’s eyes flew open and locked onto his.

              “Blood.” he said.  “It feels like blood.”

              Hannibal’s pulse raced so hard it hammered in his ears.  He felt his eyes grow wide with lust.  He felt his lips part and his tongue emerge to lick them.

              “We can easily make it so.” he whispered, his mind stampeding with images now of Will, drenched in blood, poured over his chest and stomach like gravy, dressing his body for Hannibal with the spoils of their hunt.

              Will licked his lips.

              “You look fucking depraved right now.” Will purred.  “And I’d really enjoy that.  But you asked three times, so let me finish.”

              Hannibal’s eyes snapped to Will’s with eagerness.  There was more.  He shouldn’t have been surprised.  Whenever it came to Will, there was _always_ more.

              “It reminds me of _my_ blood.” he said softly, his cheeks flushed pink, his hips still riding down onto Hannibal’s fingers, his cock hard and leaking.  “When you sliced me in your kitchen.”

              Hannibal’s eyes grew wide.  He couldn’t tear them from Will’s face.

              “When you held me for the first time.  Invaded my body.  Took me.  Made me yours.”

              The swelling of lust was overpowering.  Hannibal slid his cock the small distance to where his fingers vanished into Will’s body, removed them, and pushed himself in, fully. 

              Will screamed.  Hannibal crushed his body over him and his arms came up, under Hannibal’s, clasping him close in _exactly_ the way he had done that night in the kitchen.  Hannibal shoved his arms under his back and pulled him close, in the same manner, holding him just as tightly.  With their arms pulling their bodies as close as possible, Hannibal pulled back and thrust.

              Will’s scream electrified every cell of his body.  He thrust in again, and again, as hard as he could, with every ounce of strength he had.  Will’s cries were of ecstasy, so loud they echoed off the walls, his head thrown back and teeth bared to the ceiling.  Hannibal pounded into him, driving his body up into the hot flesh that lured him so easily to his own doom.  Will’s cries became moans, then desperate pleas.

              “Yes, yes, yes, Hannibal, Hannibal, Hannibal…” he breathed, until he had no breath left and panted.  Hannibal’s sweat dripped from his forehead into the loose hairs that covered his eyes and down onto Will’s perfect flesh.  He could no longer remember that the pleasure he felt was only nerves sending messages to his brain.  He was entirely lost, in a sea of golden honey; Will was at the center of it, beckoning him, begging for him.

              He gave.  Sweating now with effort, he pushed himself up on his arms, giving them both much needed room to breathe.  His eyes stared down at Will’s face, wanton, debauched, lost for him.  It echoed exactly how Hannibal felt.

              He pounded relentlessly, ignoring the burning in his muscles, focused entirely on the pleasure; Will’s pleasure, his pleasure. 

              “Come for me, Will.” he breathed, his voice husky and panting.  Will whimpered and obeyed, his hand flying to stroke himself.  He bit his lower lip and squeezed his eyes tightly closed, his entire face burning with passion.  Hannibal fucked hard into him, watching his face, studying him, drinking in the sight of him as he tipped over the edge.

              This last scream rang more beautifully than all the rest, and Hannibal felt his warm release on his stomach.  Will collapsed beneath him, pliant and exhausted.  The sight spread fire through Hannibal’s body, begging for him to let the last bit of his self-control go.

              He did exactly that, the ecstasy pulsing through his body as he released inside of Will, taking him, owning him.  He whispered his name, several times, and for a few precious seconds, there was no Hannibal Lecter; there was only Will Graham, and the world was perfect.

              Hannibal collapsed on top of him, heaving.  They did nothing but breathe for a sound two minutes, their only motion being Will’s arms rising up to wrap around Hannibal’s back.

              “How.” Will finally said, and Hannibal rolled to the side so he could see his glorious face.

              “How do you _still_ draw confessions out of me?  Psychoanalyzing, in the middle of sex, Hannibal!” he said, playfully pounding the mattress with a fist.

              “Presumably because you continue to desire to give them to me.” Hannibal replied.  Will rolled his eyes. 

              “Are you not pleased to have told me?”

              Will turned and gave him a delightful, playful smirk.

              “After the reaction you had?  Fuck, I should confess things during sex more often.”

              Hannibal smiled.  Such a strange and unfamiliar sensation; but a beautiful one, to have his face act upon its own, without his direction.  He reached up his fingers and stroked them through Will’s curls.

              “Please.” Hannibal replied.  “Confess it all.  I want to know every curious mystery that is locked away inside your gorgeous mind.”

              Will rolled to his side to fully look Hannibal in the face.

              “You really mean that.”

              “I always have.”

              Will rose up onto his elbows and kissed him, long and gentle and sweet.  He pulled his arms around his back and gently caressed his skin, adoring him, savoring him.

              He pulled back and filled Hannibal’s vision with his sweet face.

              “I’ll tell you every secret.” he said softly.  “Just as long as you keep telling me yours.”

              Hannibal smiled.  Again.

              “Always.” Hannibal said.


End file.
